


her mind's like a diamond (red and glaring)

by orphan_account



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Mentions of Max, el-centric, intentional lowercase, mentions of Mike - Freeform, tw for mentions of blood and alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: there is so much red (shes not quite sure if she can see clearly).or, a fic about how past trauma is more present in your head than you expect it to be, and how sometimes a seemingly helpful coping mechanism can make it hurt all the more.(mentions of blood and alcohol)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	her mind's like a diamond (red and glaring)

**Author's Note:**

> hey im back  
> so this is like...a little fic based on el and her trauma. i find her trauma and background interesting and wish the duffers dug around in it a lot more, hopefully they do in s4  
> she's around her early 20s in this so no underage drinking here lol, but its used as a way to cope so please dont read if it triggers you  
> (i am not romanticising alcoholism or unhealthy use of it in any shape or form. while el is not an alcoholic in this, this fic is supposed to show how badly trauma can get and the lengths people go to so they can forget.)

there is so much red. there is red in her head where everytime she closes her eyes she can only see dead bodies (shot, hung, belonging to anyone, females and males and children and animals, it never mattered in the lab), their insides painted on the walls and floor. 

there is so much red in her glass and on her nails. red-painted nails gripping the almost empty glass like it's a lifeline (part of el wants to believe it is, but she knows it makes it worse. makes everything worse.) clear glass filled part way with red wine, sloshing around and being carelessly sipped (almost desperately sipped, anything to numb the pain, anything to numb the constant ringing of "focus on the words, eleven", anything to numb the pounding in her head of him and them and all those sounds).

there is so much red in her flat. a red salt shaker, a red fridge magnet spelling out "madmax" on their white fridge (white. another thing that reminded her), a red frame adorning a picture on the kitchen table of her and mike at the wheeler's christmas dinner a few years ago, when they were 16 and his family wanted to "meet this darling, charming girl of his". she'd been wearing a black dress and smiling politely, and mike had been proud to call her his girlfriend, looking at her like she was the sun and beaming like the light in him was powered by her.  
("i think they like me." she'd quietly confessed later that night, when they were sitting on the porch. he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear for her and pressed a kiss to her temple, "what's not to like?")

there is so much red in the depths of her mind, making her feel like a monster, blinding red, hot red, so much bad red and good red mixing together to the point she struggled to distinguish it and gave up, letting it freely intertwine and mix together like the wine in her body. the sour juice in her body that shes drinking to numb the pain when it only worsens it. (el isnt an alcoholic. no, she's nearer to the opposite, barely touching alcohol and only having a glass or more when presented with the opportunity, her past and alcohol are two things which heavily correlate and she likes to avoid revisiting those times).

she drunkedly stumbles to the light switch, turning it off, turning off the blinding white and the glaring red. she sinks against the wall once again and pulls her head into her knees.

there is so much red. but for now, she'll let herself be consumed by dark.


End file.
